Beneath that Smile
by bones-angel
Summary: Young Black has always been the object of admiration, so it was quite unsettling when he realized that he is now the admirer.


_Beneath that raucous laughter is a tinge of longing, a slight of confusion, a speck of desire and a huge heart capable of loving so much._

_Such is the bitterness of a reunion._

_He had pushed aside such questions, knowing it wasn't anything but a fool's hope. Fools were meant to dream dreams, never to realize those dreams._

The laughter subsided, and the four friends wiped off the tears from the corners of their eyes. It was a good laugh for all of them, one that they had not had for a few weeks. They agreed that it was indeed past their bedtime, and all clambered onto their respective beds, wishing each other a good night's sleep and the pleasantest of dreams until dawn broke.

As for him, he laid awake, hands clasped behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. The precious few moments before actually slipping into slumber were the only few moments of solitude he could afford. A moment of solitude that did nothing but to wrench his heart into more knots. These knots had grown into a giant of a knot, almost rendering him incapable of functioning normally in front of his friends, whom he would rather not know a breath of his thoughts, if he could help it. Not this.

You see, he was accustomed to admiration, from male and female admirers. What he wasn't accustomed to was admiring someone so dearly that it shamed Potter's infatuation with Evans.

Admiration was probably the only word he would use to describe his feelings. He knew if he went any further than that, such feelings would only engulf him and he would be none the wiser. It was best to contain these feelings into a giant ball of admiration, and a simple, platonic admiration at that.

He turned on his side, staring into the veil that allowed him some privacy in the four-person dormitory. His ears could hear the light snores coming from his best friend's bed, the little twitches Peter's feet were always doing whenever he was dreaming, and the light, rhythmic breathing from Remus.

Perhaps it was best never to talk about it, never to think of it ever again other than tonight. Perhaps, it was better to stop right here and not think of it at all. His heart wrestled his mind for control, leaving him a little clueless as to what it was that he really wanted.

He really was in a fix right now. How could this have happened? What made him light up with such an infernal notion? A slight frown only accentuated his handsome face, and that frown lingered for a while before a sigh escaped his lips and he got up on his bed. He pulled the curtains, putting on his favorite bedroom slippers as he wore a nice, warm sweater and reached for the door.

"Where are you going, Sirius?" A little murmur came from Remus' bed.

He turned, and stared into his friend's eyes before breaking into a slow grin.

"Can't sleep. That's all. Go back to bed, Moony."

An arched eyebrow. "Need some company?"

A shake of the head. "No, I'm good."

Silence. Scrutiny.

"Go back to sleep, Moony," he reiterated.

"I'm coming with you," his friend replied after a slight evaluative silence. There was a note of finality in his tone that Sirius knew it was no use arguing with him.

"Suit yourself," he replied with a shrug and proceeded to make his way down to the common rooms.

"So what's bothering you?" Remus started, after a long contemplative silence and with Sirius staring so intently into the fire, he knew he had to start it.

Sirius turned to him slowly, gazing at him, before heaving a heavy sigh and looked back at the fire. He leaned over the arm of the sofa.

"Moony, have you ever been in love?"

A knowing smile played on his lips. "Are you in love, Padfoot old boy?"

"I'm not sure," was the short, tell-tale reply.

Rather than probe prematurely, Remus proceeded to explain what he thought love would be like. He too turned to the fire, wishing to talk to something that would at least look at him, but knowing it wasn't appropriate to force Sirius to do so at the moment. Although, at some points in his explanation, Sirius did turned and gazed intently at him, and that made him all the more nervous. He wasn't sure if a contemplative Sirius was someone he'd like to see at the moment. It was so out of character. Whoever that wound him up this much was very much formidable indeed.

"… so you see, it's not just a feeling but-"

"Moony."

"What is it, Padfoot?"

"Does the object of your affection have to be limited to one person of a certain sort?"

"A certain sort? What do you mean?" He couldn't deny it, he certainly was getting more and more alarmed by his friend's unusual behavior.

"Just any sort. Just a label. A category, if you will."

"Well, I don't think so… No," he affirmed, shaking his head.

"Oh." He turned aloof again, staring into the crackling fire.

"Is there someone you have in mind?"

"What if it wasn't someone conventional?" he ignored the question, or perhaps answered it with another question, causing the other boy to really be more concerned at the direction of the conversation.

"You're not suddenly falling in love with Snape, are you?" he smiled weakly, knowing it was a feeble attempt at a joke.

He was answered with a soft laugh, and watched as his friend slowly turned to face him, eyes staring on the stone floor as he slowly brought them up into a gaze at his friend.

Even without an explanation, he knew the answer. He'd known him long enough to know what gazes were for which, and when they were used. It was his turn to avert his gaze, looking down at the stone floor, smiling weakly.

"Oh, Padfoot…"

"What?" His voice was quiet, anticipating the reply, yet unwilling to know what it was going to be.

"I understand you but –" He looked up slowly, a sad gaze upon his fair face.

"But nothing. It's all right. I'm just sorting out my thoughts. You don't have to do anything," he interrupted abruptly, mentally berating himself for this sudden display of weak will.

"No, you don't understa-" Sirius held up a hand.

"No, Moony. I understand perfectly well. It's all right," he added, softly, to reassure his friend so as to drop the subject. He really did know what to do with his feelings now, and knew what must be done. He got up, turning expectantly at the one still seated by the fireplace. "Well, let's get back to bed now. Wouldn't want you falling asleep in McGonagall's class now, would we?"

Remus stood up, falling in step with his friend as they climbed back to the dormitory. Just as Sirius was about to open the door, he clasped gingerly - almost unsure if it was the right gesture - on his shoulder.

Sirius didn't look up, but waited for his friend to speak.

"We're in the very same boat, you know. I just want you to know that," he said quietly, also coming to a decision. The same as Sirius'.

He smiled weakly, and it grew into a happy one, and turned to Remus. "Good night, Moony. Thanks."

Without another word, both went in and to their beds, sharing a knowing smile before turning away from each other and into their own thoughts as they slowly drifted off into sleep.

And that was the end of the discussion, and it was never brought up ever again.

* * *

**A/N: **So, what do you think? =) I've been immersing myself in a little SiriusxRemus phase, and thought I'd try a bit to get in their shoes and see what it would be like to confess feelings to someone without a word.

The first three lines in the beginning is a little peek into the future, where they meet again in Grimmauld Place. =)


End file.
